Hi there – my name is Derek, but you may know me by my working name, Decade.

Since I was a child, there has always been something following me. No matter where I lived, who I was with, what I was doing. It followed me.

Truth be told, I’m just a simple guy from Ensign, Alberta who excelled on the wrestling mat in high school. College was straight forward, and I got my communications degree while I wrestled, but I never really planned on doing anything with it. I’m not an office kind-of-guy.

I just wanted to wrestle for the rest of my life.

But that… thing… continued to follow me. It beckons me to do the worst that I can to others. It wants me to cut corners. It wants me to maximize my gain, maximize the pain I can cause, and it doesn’t care what happens when it’s not around.

You’ve seen what it’s done. What I did. Big Buddha is probably going to be in rough shape for Season 5, which is hard for me to swallow. All Golden Pro Wrestling’s fans probably think I’m 100% taken over by it. I’m not, but at the same time, I know I can’t put up any defense against it.

I can’t get rid of it.

I’m no fool, I’ve seen the product of your ‘help’ with Sicko’s nightly twisted adventures. I’ve seen how you made it a mission to recapture Abel Unstable over Season 2 and 3, and the monster you made him into after Season 4.

I’m only writing to you because I know you can still arrange work release for your patients, so if you can help me and I can still wrestle, then you’re my only option.

My contact info is on the back of this letter. Please let me know if there is anything you can do for me.

Sincerely,

Derek aka Decade

The head physician of the Greater Memphis Psychiatric Institute sat back in his leather chair behind his regal wooden desk.

On the walls of his office were his diplomas, and shelves filled with books regarding the treatment of the criminally insane. The light shown through window directly onto the books illuminated Dr. Dean’s mind.

The leather chair squeaked slightly.

Dr. Dean mused to himself that perhaps Decade was like his squeaky chair; something that, while otherwise impeccable, had a nagging issue.

The chair needed a little bit of oil in its inner mechanics. Decade needed treatment for his inner mechanics.

Yes, Dr. Dean thought to himself, he could help Decade.